by Mary Burton
“Still, more people in the loop.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
The thought that anyone would pity her like she pitied Sandy or Cassie sickened her. “And you think that logic is going to wash away the emotion? The lone detail that separates me from Vicky and the others is a winning hand of cards.”
“You’re the lucky one.”
“Right.”
Despite a dozen years, the Shark could still play back the video of that last girl and feel the bitter disappointment of losing her. By the final round of games that year, he’d been on such a winning streak that he never considered losing as a possibility. The old man believed he was invincible and didn’t need Lady Luck. He would play and kill for as long as he wanted. And then, the other player laid down his winning hand of cards. The odds of a royal flush were so distant that he thought at first it was a trick of his mind or cheating. But he regulated the cards and the games carefully and knew the other player hadn’t cheated. Lady Luck had allowed him to rise to the top, and then she sent him crashing to the earth with the turn of a few cards.
The other player, instead of looking elated, was clearly relieved.
The Shark raised a trembling hand to his gray hair and, nodding, said, “The girl lives.”
He could have killed them both. He had the power. No one would have known. But the rules were the rules. Lady Luck determined which girls he could kill and which he could not. And if a man didn’t honor his personal creed, what was he worth? So the girl and the gambler left.
Days after their release, he returned to the tables in a legal casino, determined to test his luck and Lady Luck’s devotion. But when he sat at the table, he was on edge, thinking and rethinking every hand, actually fearful he would lose again. He folded the hand. Walked away. The next game was the same. And the next.
He’d lost his edge.
Lady Luck had turned her back on him.
Then the docs told him that his heart had turned to shit. They told him to give up his cigars and the booze and maybe he’d have a few crappy years of watching his strength fade away.
But the craving to kill burned inside him just as it had when he was a young man, and he was determined to savor these last games. Now that his days on this earth were dwindling, he had nothing really to lose and everything to gain.
The Shark sat back in his chair, staring at the lights of the city below. He’d lived most of his childhood on the streets, fighting and scrapping for every bite of bread. The streets had pounded him, bloodied him, and done their best to destroy him, but he had climbed up out of the hole.
He’d muscled his way out of so many scrapes, but he wouldn’t escape death. It was coming. But he’d be damned if he’d waste away in a chair, cowering. He’d spent too many years living on the edge, risking and winning.
It wasn’t enough to play more games and kill more women. He needed more risk. That’s why he’d sent Riley the video. He knew she’d take it to Shield or the cops and that the search for him would intensify. His heartbeat jacked up a notch.
The first two girls were little more than bread crumbs in a trail that would lead Riley to him. Now it was Lenny’s turn to play his last part.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Monday, September 19, 9:00 a.m.
Riley pushed through the front doors of the hospital, tensing the moment the antiseptic smell hit her nose. She’d been to the emergency room enough times to take statements from victims. Eight years on the force should have made it easier, but it didn’t. The smells of the hospital always reminded her of her mother’s last days and the long, difficult visits she and her stepfather had made to her bedside.
“Please, Mom, don’t leave me,” she whispered once in her mother’s ear. “Don’t leave me alone with him. Fight for your life.”
But her mother simply smiled and brushed the hair from her eyes. “You’ll be fine. He’s a good man.”
“He’s not good. He’s sick.”
Her mother closed her eyes. “You’re wrong about him.”
Riley rode the elevator to the seventh floor and paused at the nurses’ station to show her badge. “I’m here to see Jo-Jo. How’s she doing?”
“Awake, but moving slow. She was watching television a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks,” Riley said. “Do you have any update on her family?”
“No. She gave us a number, but no one answered. I’m not sure it’s legit. She’s barely said a dozen words.”
“Okay.” Down the hallway, she pushed into the room to find the girl sitting in her bed, remote in one hand, a cast on the other. She stared at the television, switching channels as if nothing really mattered. The plate of food was at least half-eaten. A good sign.
“Jo-Jo.”
The girl looked over with a left eye black-and-blue and swollen shut. Her lip was split, and there was a nasty cut across her neck. “I’m Riley Tatum. I came to see you a few days ago, but you were out of it.”
“You’re a cop?”
“That’s right.” She moved toward the bed, pulled up a chair, and sat. “How did you know that?”
“I’ve seen you around talking to the girls.” Jo-Jo shut off the television. “I know what happened to Vicky. I saw it on the news. They didn’t say much, but I knew it was her.”
“She was a good friend?”
“Sorta.”
“Why did Jax Carter go ballistic on you? What happened?”
She smoothed her hand over the rumpled fabric as if erasing the wrinkles would bring order to her screwed-up life. Her tone was laced with anger as she said, “Why don’t you ask him?”
“I have. But you know Jax. He’s not a chatty guy.”
Jo-Jo studied her for a long moment. “Where is he?”
“He’s out on bail. But don’t worry. You’re in a lockdown ward. He can’t get you in here.”
“He’s going to be looking for me. He’ll finish what he started when I get out.”
“He won’t. I’ll see to it.”
Jo-Jo shook her head, absently plucking at her blanket.
“Are you willing to press charges against him?”
Jo-Jo rolled her eyes. “No.”
“We’ve charged him with a half-dozen crimes that have nothing to do with you. But that won’t hold him long.”
Absently, she scratched the bandage holding her IV in place. “You’re the one that chased him into the woods, aren’t you?”
“That’s me.”
“Why would you do that? Nobody chases Jax.”
“That would explain the shocked look on his face when he saw me coming over the crest of the hill. He’s used to getting his way, but so am I.”
“But why did you do it?”
“I saw the surveillance camera footage of him beating you. Nobody deserves that.”
Her brow knotted. “You went after him because of what he did to me?”
“Aren’t you worth it?”
“That was stupid. I’m nobody.”
“When I watched that video, I saw a kid. A kid that could be anything she wanted to be if she had a chance.”
“A chance? I’ve about as much chance of getting out of this life as I do winning a million dollars.”
“I can’t get you a million dollars, but I’ve a few chances up my sleeve for a better life.”
Tears glistened. “How can I have a chance? I don’t have family and the one guy that was nice to me just about beat me to death.”
“I know places where you can go. Good people who can take care of you. It’s not hopeless.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“You and I both know it’s not easy, Jo-Jo.” She sat back. “What’s your real name?”
“Everyone calls me Jo-Jo.”
“I didn’t ask you what everyone calls you. What’s your real name?”
She plucked at a stray thread on the sheet. “It’s Melanie.”
“Melanie. That’s pretty. Melanie, what’s your last name?”
“So the number you gave the hospital is false?”
“Maybe.”
“No judgment. Be nice if I can tell the nurse she can stop calling. I’m not calling anyone. I just want to know who I’m talking to.”
“Melanie Lawrence.”
“How old are you? And let’s not start with eighteen.”
She lifted her chin a notch. “Fifteen.”
“Okay,” Riley leaned forward, “Jo-Jo, how did you know Vicky was the murdered girl?”
“Because Jax and Darla sold her to this weird guy.”
“Weird how?”
“Most guys don’t want the girls for more than an hour. But this guy insisted he have Vicky for the weekend. And he kept harping on her brown hair and how her look was perfect.”
“Her look?”
“This guy, Kevin, wanted a girl with brown hair. Jax brought us both to show, but Kevin said I was too skinny. Too hard looking. Too blond.”
“Vicky was new to the streets?”
“Yeah. She’d only been working a few weeks. Did Kevin kill Vicky?”
“We’re waiting on the DNA tests, but that’s my bet.”
“When she didn’t come back, I told Jax he had to do something. He got pissed. That’s when he started wailing on me.”
“And then you stabbed him?”
“I didn’t want to die.”
“I get it. And that wound slowed him enough so I could catch him.”
“Good.”
“Did Kevin say where he was going with Vicky?”
“He said it wasn’t far. Said there was a party about twenty miles west of the city.”
“What kind of party?”
“Said he was playing poker and always did better when he had Lady Luck with him.”
“He said Lady Luck?”
“Yeah. I thought it was weird.”
“Anything else?”
“Is that why Kevin killed Vicky? Did he run out of luck and get mad at her?”
“It had something to do with that, but I don’t have all the pieces yet.”
Tears welled in her eyes and when one spilled, she wiped it away. “Jax convinced Vicky to run away with him about four weeks ago. He said he loved her.” Swollen lips twitched into a wry smile. “He said the same thing to me as well as Darla.”
Riley sat silent for a moment, knowing there was nothing she could say to the girl right now. “I saw Sandy.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s worried about Cassie. She’s been gone for a couple of days.”
Jo-Jo pushed back a strand of dirty blond hair. “Shit. And she’s new. Not as new as Vicky, but Darla would’ve fixed her up. Did Kevin come back for her?”
“Kevin is dead,” Riley said. “Someone shot him.”
Her brow wrinkled in a frown. “Good. If he killed Vicky, then I’m glad he’s dead. But who took Cassie?”
“Do you remember anything else about Kevin? Did he have friends?”
“Kevin told Jax there was a tournament,” Jo-Jo said. “He said they might need more girls. He wanted to pass Jax’s name along to the others. Jax was thrilled.”
“Did Kevin say where the other players were coming from?”
“All over. They all wanted to challenge the old man.”
“Any names?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Riley drew a slow breath.
“Where’s Jax?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Right now, he’s hiding out in his motor home with Darla. A friend of mine put the fear of God in him, so he’s gone underground.”
A smile teased the edges of her lips. “That must be some friend.”
“He’s not someone to mess around with.”
She tugged at the sheet’s coarse cotton. “Jax won’t stay afraid long. He’s mean, but not always smart.”
Right now Carter was trying to stay out of sight and alive. “You’re supposed to get out of here tomorrow, right?”
Panic flared in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave.”
“I know. It’s safe here. But I know a place. It’s a house run by a nice couple. I can call them for you.”
Annoyance flashed across her bruised face. “You can’t make me go anywhere.”
Riley’s phone pinged with a text from Duke. She read it and texted back. “I’m not going to make you go anywhere,” she told Jo-Jo.
There was a knock at the door and the girl stiffened, sitting straighter in her bed. “Who’s that?”
“A friend.”
“The scary one?”
“No, though he looks meaner than a snake. Don’t let the ink scare you. He’s about the most gentle guy you’ll ever meet.” She moved to the door and opened it to let Duke into the room.
Jo-Jo studied him closely, her body as tense as a taut rubber band. “Who’s this, your grandfather?”
Laughing, Duke rubbed the back of his neck with his hands, showing off an arm covered in tattoos. “Hey, I might be old enough to be her dad, but not her granddad. I’m not that broken down, kid.”
Jo-Jo shook her head. “You’re up there, Pops.”
Duke looked at Riley, amused. “Tough crowd.”
“They all are at this stage. Didn’t you say I took a swing at you?”
He rubbed his chin. “Barely missed.”
Another knock on the door and Maria entered. She was grinning and had a large grocery bag full of clothes. “Sorry, I stopped at the nurse’s station. I know one of the gals from church.” She smiled at the young girl. “So you must be Jo-Jo. I’m Maria and this is Duke, my husband. We run a restaurant and we shelter kids. And in this bag are clothes. I had to guess your size, so there’re all kinds.”
“Her real name is Melanie Lawrence,” Riley said.
“Melanie,” Maria said, smiling. “I like that. Very pretty.”
“My name is Jo-Jo,” the girl insisted.
“Okay.” Maria nodded as if knowing the kid clung to the name because she was afraid.
“Are you, like, foster parents?” Jo-Jo asked. “I’ve done foster care and it sucks.”
Duke slid a ringed hand into his front pocket. “We work with social services, but we don’t take government money. Our place is all donation based. And it’s not foster care. We offer a safe harbor until you figure out what’s next.”
“So what’s the catch?” Jo-Jo asked.
“You agree to come with us, and I’ll talk to social services. Then you got to go to school,” Duke said without hesitation. “Education will get you out of this life.”
“School.” She laughed. “Right.”
Riley pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to Jo-Jo. “The decision is yours. I can’t make you go. Neither can Duke or Maria.”
Jo-Jo flicked the edge of the card, not bothering to look at it.
“They gave me a second chance, and I took it. If not for them, I don’t know where I’d be now. Play it smart, and take the offer. You won’t get another one.”
After Jo-Jo’s sullen acceptance of Duke’s offer, Riley left the hospital, not convinced the kid would have her happy ending. The road ahead would be tough for a girl who’d seen too much in her fifteen years.
As she opened her car door, her phone buzzed. Agent Sharp’s name popped up on the display. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We found Lewis’s hotel, and I now have a search warrant. Want to play agent one more time before you put the uniform back on?”
“I do.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
She arrived at the hotel a half hour later. It was decent but not plush like the casino hotels in the big cities. A black SUV was waiting for her as she crossed the lot. Bowman got out, his dark suit and glasses making him look like a fed. If he really was retired, you’d never know it looking at him.
“What’
re you doing here?” she asked.
“Agent Sharp called me.”
“So I’m not the only one he called to the party. My feelings are hurt.”
Bowman tipped his head toward her. “Given the choice, he’d pick you over me any day. I would.”
The deep timbre of his voice triggered a rush of heat in her body. She cleared her throat and looked at the hotel. “Wonder if Kevin was on his way up the ladder of success or down it?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say down. My guess is that he owed money, and that’s what got him killed.”
“Makes sense.”
She approached the front desk and waited until the clerk looked up from her computer screen before she raised her badge. The midtwenties woman wore her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, chic glasses, and a navy-blue suit that didn’t quite fit. “Yes?”
“I’m Trooper Tatum, and this is Mr. Bowman. Agent Sharp called earlier.”
“He’s upstairs.” She lowered her voice. “In that dead man’s room.”
“Right.”
The clerk coded a new plastic key and handed one to Riley. “Room 202. The elevators are around the corner.”
“Thanks.”
They made their way to the bank of elevators and Bowman punched 2. As the doors closed, two young girls about the age of twelve scrambled into the car. They both wore wet bathing suits wrapped in towels and dripping with water. The girls glanced at Bowman and Riley, making no effort to hide their curiosity.
One whispered something to the other, and they both giggled. Riley couldn’t remember a time when she ran free or kicked around with a friend. Her mother and stepfather had kept a tight rein on her, believing if they gave her too much time to herself, she’d find trouble. Monsters live on the streets, her mother used to say. They also lived in the house, though her mother never would admit it.
The doors dinged open and Riley and Bowman exited, finding their way to room 202. They both pulled on latex gloves. A swipe of the key and they were inside. Cigar smoke. The scent permeated the room.
Riley doubled back and checked the room door. “It’s a nonsmoking room.”
Bowman sniffed. “Surprised he’d break that rule?”
Sharp and Martin were in the room. While Sharp searched a drawer, Martin dusted a doorknob for prints. A “Do Not Disturb” sign hung on the doorknob.